Miss Van Doren
by psychoticphoenix
Summary: "You must be the Van Doren girl."  "Yep, that'd be me."  There's a new transfer student in Hogwarts. And she's in Ravenclaw. How is she going to blend in the background while the story goes on? Or will she? Set in the third book.
1. Chapter 1: She Arrives

**Author's Note: **The first chapter mainly focuses on my OCs but I promise you that soon enough Queen Rowling's characters will be joining in the fun. I hope you hang on to this story. And also, review.

**Disclaimer: **Queen Rowling owns all except the OC's and plot. Well, we all know that. Also, some phrases have been taken from the book. Not mine!

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: She Arrives <strong>

Dementors stopping the Hogwarts Express in search of Sirius Black, what could be stranger? How about Dumbledore holding the Sorting Hat at the breakfast table the second morning after the Sorting? Yes? Well, indeed he was, with a brunette girl standing beside him looking at the Hogwarts students filing in with curious dark brown eyes. Some students, like Harry Potter, noticed immediately. After all, it was his habit to look at Dumbledore's place during meals. Others, like Ron Weasley, merely noticed the current lack of food on the usually full breakfast tables. Murmurs scattered as the students noticed the new girl one by one.

"Hogwarts!" Dumbledore called out. "Due to certain circumstances, we have here Miss Isabelle Van Doren. She will be studying here from now on." With that, he set the Sorting Hat on Isabelle's head.

It stayed there for a few moments before clearly calling out, 'RAVENCLAW!'

Dumbledore smiled and nodded as the Ravenclaw house cheered and welcomed their newcomer. "Miss Van Doren will be in the third year class."

Silence. Everyone in the Great Hall have never encountered a transferee before, the other professors included, and now they contemplated how someone who just got sorted belonged to a couple of years higher than the usual.

"Now, let us enjoy breakfast." The headmaster said, and with those words, the food appeared on the tables and everyone dug in heartily, quickly forgetting what they were just pondering upon as the scent of food wafted through the air.

Isabelle sighed in relief. At least no one was talking to her... yet. "Hi, Isabelle, right?" a girl who sat across her greeted.

She nodded. "Yes." Isabelle replied, trying not to sound wary.

"I'm Cyrene. Cyrene Yelena de Noir. We're in the same year." Isabelle looked at her. She looked different from the other Ravenclaws. For one, she had strawberry-blonde hair and gray-eyes, which weren't really common in the midst of the mostly dark-haired and dark-eyed students of Ravenclaw.

"Pleasure to meet you." Isabelle finally said, giving the girl a small smile.

"So where are you from?"

Isabelle swallowed her pumpkin juice before replying. "Romania."

"Where'd you study before here?"

"I was home schooled."

"Oh… well, that's… peculiar. I mean, not in a bad way of course, it's just that I've never met anybody who was homeschooled before."

"It's quite alright." Isabelle smiled and sipped her pumpkin juice once again.

"Anyways, wait 'til you meet my friend Antoinette. I'm sure you'll like her. She's from Hufflepuff." Yelena chattered on.

"I'm sure I'll be thrilled." Came the not so enthusiastic but still enough response. "Oh, and Cyrene, do you mind showing me around?" Isabelle requested, remembering she was in unfamiliar territory.

Cyrene smiled. "It would be my pleasure."

* * *

><p>By the time breakfast was finished, Isabelle had already met most of the Ravenclaw house, courtesy of Cyrene, of course. The person who caught most of her attention was Luna Lovegood, who was a year below them. Luna was another fair-haired person in the midst of the Ravenclaws. And she kept on reading this funny paper called the Quibbler.<p>

"Well, we must be going then." Cyrene urged, standing up and heading over back to the Ravenclaw Tower to grab their things for their first class. Isabelle followed suit.

"What's our first class again?"

"New schedule says we have Divination with Professor Trelawney on the North Tower with the Hufflepuffs."

"Have you been to that class yet?"

Cyrene shook her head. "Gryffindors and Slytherins had it together yesterday. I have heard something interesting about it though."

Isabelle's interest was piqued. "What is it?"

"I overheard Professor McGonagall mentioning it yesterday to Professor Sprout. Says Sybill Trelawney's at it again. She said Professor Trelawney has greeted her new batch of students with the same old spook about one student dying. No need to worry then, I guess. She's already pointed out who it is."

"And who might the unfortunate bloke be?"

"Harry Potter."

Isabelle Van Doren may have been home-schooled up to that point by a pure-blood family in Romania, but she couldn't deny the fact that Harry Potter wasn't famous. Even there in their family manor, news has reached two years ago when Harry Potter finally resurfaces after living with his muggle aunt, uncle and cousin. "The boy-who-lived."

"The very same. But of course, his life has probably been in danger ever since You-Know-Who was defeated by him. Not that I'm saying he'll come back, you know. But he's got his followers."

Isabelle nodded and their conversation was interrupted as they reached the Ravenclaw tower and answered the bronze eagle's knocker's riddle to enter the tower and gather their things. Isabelle's possessions have been set-up in one of the girl's dorms and as fate may have it, in Cyrene's.

After they had gathered their books and bags, they then went back and headed to the North Tower.

"In first year he had this episode with Professor Quirrell in the dungeons. I didn't get much data, but I heard Professor Quirrell was used by You-Know-Who to get back at Harry Potter and get his body back using the Sorcerer's Stone. Then last year the chamber of secrets was opened. They say it was the heir of Slytherin's doing. Many people thought at first that it was Harry, after that time when the whole school heard him speak in Parseltongue, one of Salazar Slytherin's rare talents, during Professor Lockhart's little dueling club's first and if I reckon correctly, last night."

"Sounds to me like Mr. Potter's troubles didn't end that night thirteen years ago."

"Definitely. Now I heard Sirius Black's after him. Not so sure about that though. But after the past two years, anyone could be after Harry Potter."

"What class do we have after Divination?"

Before Cyrene had the chance to reply, they had reached their destination. "It doesn't look like a classroom at all." Cyrene mumbled, looking around.

Isabelle shrugged, not having much of a concrete idea about how classrooms are supposed to look like. Other third year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs shuffled into the tower behind them. "Cyrene, as expected. You've already befriended the new girl." came a voice behind the two of them.

Cyrene was the first to turn and beamed as she tugged Isabelle to face the same way. "Isabelle, this is Antoinette Montesquieu, she's the Hufflepuff I told you about earlier." Isabelle came face to face with a girl with shoulder length mocha brown hair permed at ends and emerald green eyes. "Anne, this is Isabelle Van Doren."

Isabelle smiled politely at Antoinette. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure's mine." Antoinette blushed, shaking Isabelle's hand.

"Now, you must pardon Anne. She's a tad bit uneasy around most people. It makes her blush like mad when people have their attention on her." Cyrene explained.

Antoinette laughed. "Yes, that's true. Unlike Cyrene here who isn't ashamed to talk to anyone within a 12-foot radius."

Isabelle and Cyrene laughed at that as well. The three of them continued to survey the whole room. "Looks like my great grandma's attic." Cyrene commented, looking at the closed windows and dusty shelves along the walls. "Plus the smell." She added, indicating the heavy, sickly sort of perfume that was wafting from the large copper kettle on the fire under the mantelpiece. "And the light! Oh dear me." Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves.

"Feels like we ended up in a tea shop to me. An old-fashioned one at that." Antoinette supplied, pointing at the round tables surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. And the huge array of teacups on the shelves.

"This temperature is suffocating." Isabelle added.

Their criticism was cut short when a soft misty voice spoke. "Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

Isabelle suppressed a cough given the room's circumstances. She squinted in the light to see Professor Trelawney moving from the shadows and into the light. Her eyes looked enormous due to the magnification of her glasses, and several accessories were on her neck, arms and fingers. She also had this tacky shawl around her.

"Sit, my children, sit." And everyone awkwardly clambered to find a seat. Isabelle, Cyrene and Antoinette sank into three huddled poufs. "Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

Nobody spoke a word. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field..."

Isabelle remained silent, her eyes focused on the fire. "Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift granted to few. You girl," she pointed to a Hufflepuff who in surprise had jumped up so suddenly. "Beware of traitors." The girl suddenly looked distrusting at her companion who squirmed at her glare uncomfortably.

"We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry." Then she suddenly pounced on a boy, from Ravenclaw this time, muttering something about an accident that's bound to happen to him regarding some stairs.

"In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball - if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice."

Cyrene raised her brow at that proclamation. Antoinette gave a shrug.

"Who would be kind enough to hand me the largest silver teapot?" Professor Trelawney whispered.

Isabelle looked around. None of the others seemed to want to go near the strange professor and were sinking into their seats. She cleared her throat and stood up, took the teapot from the shelf and handed it to Professor Trelawney.

"Thank you, my dear." Sybill Trelawney said, and her eyes turned even bigger and opened her mouth as if to speak when she glanced at Isabelle. Isabelle felt like she was about to spout out one of her foresights again and stiffened. But the professor simply smiled at her and told her to sit down.

"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing."

Cyrene and Antoinette looked at each other, then at Isabelle. "You partner with her. I'll just be with Madge Miller over there." Cyrene volunteered, moving to another table with another girl from Ravenclaw.

"Isabelle?" Antoinette asked in concern, touching Isabelle's shoulder to catch her attention. Since she gave the teapot to Professor Trelawney, her eyes had turned blank and haven't been diverted from the crackling fire.

Isabelle jumped in surprise. "Yeah?"

"Let's get started with this tea leaves reading bogus." Antoinette whispered the last bit out because Trelawney was fluttering about near them. Isabelle chuckled at that and began to follow the instructions that have been given.

Before they knew it, Divination was over. Isabelle and Antoinette were the objects of Professor Trelawney's praises, saying they showed potential to have The Eye. They looked at each other and rolled their eyes at that.

"Madge and I had a little trouble with our tea leaves. Who sees distinct shapes in all that random swirl of leaves anyway?" Cyrene complained to Isabelle as they rushed to their next class. The Hufflepuffs have long departed to rush into another direction.

Isabelle shrugged, "Antoinette and I saw several, we weren't so sure. But Professor seemed to be pleased with all the made up things we made up when she went to our table. I mean, there wasn't even a one eyed bunny mentioned in the book and that was what I saw."

Cyrene laughed. "How's your day so far then?"

"Going smoother than expected." Isabelle grinned. "Although I'd probably need your help catching up with the classes I missed yesterday."

"Oh sure. I'm pretty sure you'll get it fast. After all, you're a Ravenclaw." Cyrene winked as they arrived at Charms with Professor Flitwick.


	2. Chapter 2: Of Princes and Professors

**Disclaimer: **Queen Rowling owns all except the OC's and plot.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Of Princes and Professors <strong>

Just after lunch, Cyrene and Isabelle decided to lounge at the courtyard before proceeding to their next class. The other Hogwarts students looked at Isabelle quite warily, muttering about Dementors and strange transferees.

"_Transeferees?" Isabelle had asked. "I thought I was the only one." _

_Cyrene had shaken her head. "No, there was this other girl. Came just before you did. Was here before any of us was, as a matter of fact. She's in Slytherin. A Zabini." _

"_Oh." _

Since then, Isabelle chose to hide her face in a book she suddenly produced from her bag. It was probably as thick as _Hogwarts, a History_, which Cyrene gathered from years of magical eavesdropping and data-gathering, was Hermione Granger from Gryffindor's favorite book.

"Isabelle, we have Potions with Professor Snape soon. That's one class you don't want to be late in." Cyrene warned, standing up from a bench in the middle of the courtyard to smooth out her robes. She looked up at the sky. "Besides, it looks like rain. We should get inside at least. You know, since those Dementors have been lurking around, even the weather hasn't been as cheery."

Isabelle's eyes barely rose from the book she was reading. "Mhm. Yeah, rain. I don't like rain." She muttered, standing up and walking towards the shade, her nose still in the book she was reading. "That's interesting," she mumbled. "It says here that in 1871, there was a wizard who got _all _his spells wrong. And one time he actually turned all his friends to socks when he tried to stupefy them as a prank…"

Cyrene stared at Isabelle who's seemed to have transformed once she shoved her face down the book she was currently reading. The only time she heard Isabelle mutter more than two sentences at most was when she talked to herself. And she only did that when she was reading. On the contrary, Cyrene managed to reduce her sentences to incoherent blubbering when she was around one person: One particular Gryffindor. One very particular Gryffindor Seeker, as a matter of fact. Specifically, the one Oliver Wood. Now Cyrene had this strange tendency to fall in love with practically anything that breathes, but with Oliver Wood, everything was different. He made her heart beat so fast she thought it might burst from her chest, he made her Ravenclaw wit turn into nothing more but enough intelligence to keep her mouth shut from proclaiming her love for him, or kissing him, for that matter and he made her at loss for words, which practically _never _happened with a witch like her.

Isabelle's voice broke her train of thought, just as Cyrene was imagining Oliver Wood's Quidditch-built body under his robes, under his… "Y'know, Cyrene, if you're worried about being late to Potions, I highly suggest you trot off now. I have a knack for ending up late at most times, and you wouldn't want to be in the punishment with me if I were to make you late… dear Madge over there is wondering why we aren't making a break for the dungeons yet and I recommend you go with her." Isabelle was still reading the book, her eyes never leaving the page even as she talked to her fellow Ravenclaw.

Cyrene frowned. "But…"

"Heads up." Isabelle suddenly said, stepping out of the way as Cyrene was bumped by someone from behind. She flipped the page as her companion turned to look straight back into the face of no other than Oliver Wood.

"Oh!"

"Sorry, miss."

"I uh… I… I, I… uhhh… Ishokay." Cyrene's face flamed in embarrassment.

Oliver smiled warmly at her, seemingly not noticing that she seemed to have acquired a speech impediment while staring right into his eyes. Cyrene blushed even harder, turned and ran to Potions, her heart pounding like a trapped bird in a cage. She paused with her hand on the wall to support her weight, the other on her chest as she tried to regain her breath.

"Oh bloody hell. Oh Merlin!" she yelled, realizing she just left the book-headed Isabelle alone. Then Isabelle's words rang in her head. _"… I have a knack for ending up late at most times, and you wouldn't want to be in the punishment with me if I were to make you late…" _

Cyrene finally gave a shrug, figuring Isabelle knew better than to be late to her first Potions class. Her thoughts, which were once again wandering to Oliver Wood's body, were shaken with a mind-shattering image of a Dementor finding Isabelle alone, contently flitting around in the castle's halls with her head in a book. "Geez, regardless of whether or not the book would make a good defense for a soul-sucking creature, I better go find her."

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><p>Isabelle was still reading while she walked leisurely down the stairs towards the dungeons. Somewhere in the castle, the Gryffindors were on their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts with the new Professor, Remus Lupin. The Hufflepuffs, meanwhile, were outside heading to Herbology class with Professor Sprout. The Slytherins? They were on their way to Transfiguration with McGonagall, and seeing that they came roughly from the direction Isabelle was headed, she crossed their path.<p>

"_Isn't that the transfer student?" _

"_Uh, the transfer student was in Slytherin. That one's a Ravenclaw." _

"_No, dimwit. The _other _transfer student." _

"_Oh. Um, yeah, maybe."_

"_She doesn't look like much." _

"_You couldn't even see her face, Daphne." _

"_Shut up, Theodore. Is that her natural hair color?" _

"_Who cares?" _

"_Nobody was asking you, Parkinson." _

"_She's from Romania?" _

"_Whoa, man, do you think she's seen dragons?" _

"_Shut up, all of you, she can probably hear us." _

"_With that face that deep in the thick book, I highly doubt she could." _

"_I heard she was home schooled." _

"_Shush, Pansy." _

"_I bet she doesn't know anything worth squat." _

"_PANSY!" _

Isabelle smirked behind the book's thick covers. For people who barely read, they'd have known that it was unnatural for people's faces to be practically shoved into the book to be able to read it. Even for near-sighted people. So naturally, she wasn't focused on anything else to not hear the things they said about her.

When she was sure the lot has passed, she put the book down and closed it. She prepared herself to make a run for the dungeons, if she had to, just as not to be late for her first ever Potions class. She stopped in her tracks though, when she came face to face with a fair-haired boy with eyes the color of molten silver, one of his arms in a sling and two fat boys trudging behind him… with difficulty.

"Crabbe, Goyle. Go ahead and tell McGonagall my pain has made travelling any faster unbearable. That should be excuse enough." He ordered, no wait, requested his two fat boys who grunted as they did their best to move forward faster than him. "What are you looking at?" He spat, finally noticing Isabelle standing in front of him.

The portraits around them had a variety of reactions. Some shook their heads, others looked on curiously, some looked as indignant as the boy, and some looked as nonchalant as Isabelle.

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><p>Cyrene found Isabelle with the book still in her hand, however this time, the book was closed and her face wasn't hidden by it. She seemed to be talking to another person, who from her position half-hidden by a pillar, Cyrene could not see.<p>

"It doesn't look very believable." Isabelle stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your don't see, to be acting the part of an injured person well. You were still bossing those two guys around."

The other person snarled. "You dare! Do you know who I am?"

Isabelle gave a shrug. "I'm kind of new here. Sorry." She didn't look very sorry though, she looked amused. Cyrene decided to stand her ground, kind of hidden from Isabelle and surely hidden from the other person. She was curious as to what was happening, after all. "Anyways, as I have said, it's not very believable. I doubt anyone would fall for that lousy acting of yours. Want me to break it for you to make it realistic?"

"Why you insolent bint!"

"Beg your pardon?" Isabelle cracked a smile.

"My father will hear about this!"

Isabelle snickered. "Going to hide under daddy's wobes, huh? I'm simply trying to help you! Your skills of deception aren't very convincing, after all."

By this point Cyrene knew whom Isabelle was talking with. Who else used that line in all of Hogwarts? She blanched. Messing with this person wasn't very good, especially not with Isabelle's standing as a transferee, still a weakling in these territories.

"Who are you?" the other person growled.

"Isabelle Van Doren."

"Van Doren?"

A smile. "Do you know the name?"

"From the pure-blood family from Romania?"

"The very same."

"Listen kid," Isabelle smirked at that point. "I'm giving you another chance, since you're from a pure-blood family. Take back your insults and I will not hex you right here, right now."

Isabelle laughed. "And why would I do that?"

Cyrene slapped her palm to her face. What did Isabelle think she was doing? She could just see the pale boy's face turning red by the second. She took a deep breath and came running. "ISABELLE! Thank goodness I found you, we must hurry, we'll be late for class!"

"Ah, there you are! And… will we? I must've lost track of time again."

"We're not done with this, Van Doren."

Cyrene laughed nervously. "Oh look, you've met Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Isabelle's brow rose.

Draco Malfoy smiled testily, his hand reaching for his wand resting in the sling. "Do you know the name?"

Isabelle grinned, and Cyrene knew the next word that came out of her mouth was false, and she said it only to spite the blonde in front of them. "Nope."

Malfoy raised his arm, the one in the sling, as if to hit Isabelle with a hex from his wand.

Isabelle laughed at that. "I told you your deception is a bloody failure." She pointed at Malfoy's supposedly injured arm.

Malfoy let out a frustrated growl, put his hand down and rested it in the sling once again to make it appear injured. "I'll get you for this, Van Doren."

Isabelle's reply was a friendly grin. "My offer to break your arm for real is still open, Malfoy." She waved as Cyrene pulled her away before danger could come to any of them. Yet another display of strangeness from the girl with IVD as her initials and her first day at Hogwarts wasn't even over yet. She could turn from the world's greatest semi-anti-social witch to creepy blank expression girl to Miss maybe-she's-friendly-after-all to the bookworm who refused to look up from her book and as of late, to a girl who had the guts to insult Malfoy and get away with it with a smile on her face. One thing was for sure. Isabelle Van Doren wasn't a normal girl.

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><p>They managed to get to Potions on time, despite the <em>*ahem*<em> incident which only the portraits, the cold hallways of Hogwarts and Cyrene Yelena de Noir have witnessed.

"If I didn't know better I'd say they've known each other their whole lives and both existed to annoy the hell out of the other." Cyrene muttered as she observed Isabelle making her Shrinking Solution like nothing happened, cutting up her daisy roots evenly, skinning her shrivel figs like she's done them her whole life, adding just the right amount of bat spleen, leech juice, caterpillars and other ingredients, cleaning up her workspace, putting away her unused ingredients, washing her hands and ladle, and finally looking on contentedly as her potion brewed to perfection.

Cyrene blinked. Surely, this was Isabelle's first Potions lesson? She's done it all in a short while that Cyrene looked at her ingredients and saw that she wasn't finished skinning her own shrivel figs yet. The others haven't even gotten their daisy roots in equal lengths yet.

Severus Snape stared straight at Isabelle and walked over to where she was, his robes billowing around him. "Miss Van Doren, you are finished?" he asked with an edge in his voice. _Even he couldn't believe she's done with it_, Cyrene thought.

"Uhm, just a few more minutes of brewing time, Professor." Isabelle answered innocently, quite oblivious to the looks everyone was shooting her.

"You needn't rush, Miss Van Doren. We have all afternoon to make the Potion. We wouldn't have mishaps because of your Solution made too fast, would we?"

"Rushed?" Isabelle's brow furrowed. Finally looking up from her cauldron and noticing her classmates' half cut up roots, semi-skinned shrivel figs, and the like. "Oh…" she fidgeted, unnerved now that she understood what was happening.

Snape took a peek at the now blushing Ravenclaw's cauldron and seeing the bright acid green color of its contents. Frowned and spoke to the others. "By now you should be finished preparing your ingredients." Hearing that, they all sped up with their ingredients, getting some unpleasant bits and pieces in their hair, clothes and all over the place." Snape walked away, his robes as usual, fluttering in his wake.

When Snape was gone, Isabelle tried to inconspicuously monitor the fire from under her cauldron. She sat down and quietly observed her classmates fumbling with their Shrinking Solutions. Just as they were starting to mix their potions, she put off the fire from hers. In doing so, she received more looks from her fellow Ravenclaws. She gave a nervous chuckle and looked at her potion again, as if she was expecting she messed up somewhere and that she'd have to repeat making it again. But the contents of her cauldron were still bright acid green, undisturbed except for a few wisps of vapor every now and then.

Minutes later of guiltily looking at her Shrinking Solution, Isabelle stood up when Snape ordered everyone to step away from their cauldrons. Ravenclaws being intelligent enough to not get instructions mixed up, there was hardly anyone who had a different colored potion or a busted cauldron. Most of the unfulfilled potions were simply because of lack of time.

Isabelle stepped back when Snape came in his oh-so-elegant robes, perhaps to embarrass her. "Shall we test Miss Van Doren's potion? Since she finished a long time before any of you did, let's see if what she did was right. Miss Van Doren."

"Yes, professor Snape?"

"Call your owl here."

Several people gasped. If Snape intended to test Isabelle's potion on her owl, then if she's done it wrong, it could lead to the death of her own pet. Isabelle took out a whistle from her pocket, blew into it, and a few moments later, a black screech owl flew into their classroom, perching on Isabelle's arm. Either everyone was having hallucinations, or the owl really was glaring at Snape. The said Professor of course, took no notice of it, put a small spoon into Isabelle's potion, and let the owl swallow some drops from it.

A few moments passed before the owl shrank to a little one, barely with feathers yet. It gave a miniature shriek as Snape took a bottle from his robe, dropped some of its contents on it and in a few moments, turned into a full-grown screech owl once again.

The whole class breathed in relief.

"Ten points to Ravenclaw." Snape said, somewhat reluctantly. Before the whole class could burst into cheers though, he added. "Now get yourselves out of here before I remove five from that. Class dismissed."

As they all filed out of the dungeons, Cyrene approached Isabelle, who was still talking to her owl. "You get in a row with the Slytherin prince, and you finish a potion minutes before anyone else did, what can you _not _do?" she teased as Isabelle gave her owl a treat before it flew away.

Isabelle laughed and turned to face her. "I didn't _know_ it was Draco Malfoy. And I've been raised to finish preparing ingredients for potions in that rate." She shrugged. "I guess I haven't been doing a splendid job of blending in, huh?."

Cyrene laughed as well. "You kidding? You earned our house ten points! They're bound to thank you for that some time later."

"I highly doubt it."

Just then, the Slytherins passed by, headed back to the Slytherin dungeons. Draco Malfoy was in their midst and he gave Isabelle a nasty look which Isabelle repaid with a smile and a pantomime of her breaking someone's, assumingly his, arm.

Cyrene shook her head and chuckled. "You're impossible."

Isabelle had picked up her book bag and was walking up the stairs to go back to their tower. "Oh, I hope you won't regret talking to me this morning now."

"Of course not. You're even stranger than Luna and despite that, you're cool. What are you?"

"Awesome multi-personality witch with a lot of hidden talents." Isabelle laughed and ran ahead. "Race you to the Tower!"


	3. Chapter 3: The Van Doren Mystery

**Disclaimer: **Queen Rowling owns all except the OC's and plot.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: The Van Doren Mystery <strong>

As Cyrene had predicted, Isabelle was a hotshot in the common room that evening. Some of the upper years had gone to the kitchen and asked the elves for a cake in honor of the new member of Ravenclaw. This was a rare occasion, after all. It wasn't everyday there was a transfer student at Hogwarts and she happened to be in Ravenclaw.

Cyrene had just finished telling everybody about Isabelle's talent in Potions and was about to start on the incident at the hallways earlier that day but was interrupted by Isabelle calling the attention of the people away. "Shouldn't we be eating the cake?" she smiled sheepishly, motioning to the chocolate mousse beside her.

"You wouldn't happen to have a hidden talent in Quidditch as well, would you?" the Ravenclaw team's captain, Roger Davies, asked her as he took a slice of cake.

Isabelle laughed and shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not."

"Well then, if ever you discover one, just look for me. We could always use brilliant additions to the team in case one of us encounters a problem." He winked and left to join his friends.

Cyrene chose that moment to walk over. "Davies." She snorted. "He's a flirt, that one."

Isabelle smiled at her and offered her a slice of cake. "I noticed."

Cyrene took the platter from her and took a bite. "So, how does it feel to be the center of attention?"

"I'm not actually the center of attention. The cake is."

Cyrene chuckled and shook her head. "You know what I mean."

Isabelle picked up her own platter and slunk over to the corner of the common room. "I'm not used to it."

"It'll pass."

"I hope so. I haven't exactly been blending in. Late arrival to school and all."

"Oh. You don't seem to want the spotlight on you. Others would've wanted to be in your place. You intrigue everyone."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Congratulations. You have succeeded in freaking me out. I don't have much about myself that deserves the spotlight though." She grinned, once again bringing out the thick book she was reading after lunch and shoving her face into it.

Cyrene shook her head. "Well, I'll leave you be for the moment then."

"Sure. I'll see you later, Cyrene." Isabelle's voice was muffled by the book.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, except for Professor Flitwick coming in the middle of the night telling the Ravenclaw House to sleep else he'll have to take some points from them. It was pretty much a flurry of activity as they all scurried away to their dorms. Girls giggled and boys chuckled as the dorms quieted down as morning arrived.

"We should've realized she was knackered. She just arrived for Merlin's sake." Madge Miller whispered to Cyrene as they looked over at Isabelle immediately falling asleep once she got to her bed. The book she was dragging around all day precariously dangling over the edge of her bedside table as it was haphazardly left on top of it by its now asleep owner.

Cyrene nodded. "And after tonight, I doubt any one of us Ravens won't be knackered tomorrow." She added as she too yawned. "Well, I guess I'll hit the sack as well. Good night, Madge."

"Good night."

* * *

><p>Cyrene woke up to the sounds of somebody banging and crashing around in the bathroom. She drowsily looked around and saw that Madge was still asleep in her bed, and Isabelle was apparently the one in the bathroom. "Isabelle?" she called out sleepily.<p>

"I'll be right out. Sorry I'm taking so long." came a frantic reply.

"No, no. I'm not going in yet. What are you up to in there?"

"Nothing!" which was followed by what suspiciously sounded like Isabelle muttering a spell and… _an explosion?_

"Isabelle?" Cyrene was fully awake now.

Some clattering. And then the door opened and Isabelle was there, looking slightly flustered, a small bag in hand. "What were you doing?" Cyrene asked, suspicious.

Isabelle's eyes met hers. "Took a bath and got dressed and brushed my teeth." She answered a little bit innocently.

Cyrene snorted. "Figures. You're looking very ready."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "You flatter me too much." She said, heading over to her bed and dumping the bag she was holding on the table beside the unbelievably thick book which she straightened so that it wouldn't fall off from the table. "Aren't you getting ready yet?"

"Yeah, yeah. I am."

"I'll knock up Madge." **(A/N: Which, in British slang, means to wake up, my dear readers!)**

"Yeah, you do that." Cyrene trudged to the bathroom as Isabelle walked over to Madge's four-poster to wake her.

When Cyrene emerged from the bathroom, Madge was gathering her things and Isabelle was nowhere in sight. "Where's Isabelle?"

"She said she'd take a walk and that she'll meet us at the Great Hall at breakfast. I offered to take her sliding down the banisters with me to enjoy the thrill of it and she said maybe later. Is it _that _strange for people to be sliding down banisters? Muggles do it all the time."

"Madge."

"What?"

"The staircases _move_."

The girls shared a look and ended up laughing.

"Anyways, it was our house's founder's brain child. We must have some instincts as to when they will and will not move." Madge hypothesized, still laughing as she gathered up her things as she headed for the bathroom herself.

"If you ever end up at the Hospital Wing for that, I won't say I told you so." Cyrene warned impishly.

"We all have our quirks, Cyrene. You know, like the one you have with a certain Gryffindor. Arse over elbows, you are."

"Madge!"

* * *

><p>Isabelle found herself wandering to the grounds, not having any concrete destination in the first place. She couldn't have her roommates knowing her morning problems re: her hair. It was too embarrassing.<p>

"Well, if it isn't Izzy Van Doren." A boy's voice came from in front of her. Isabelle looked up and made eye contact.

"Oh you."

"Fancy seeing you here."

"Yes, well, weren't you there yesterday when Dumbledore announced my arrival? And good Merlin, that line would never work with me."

"I meant here on the grounds at this time of the day. We both know you're not a _morning _person. What with all the time you spend prettying yourself up."

"Very funny. Wait, you were _serious? _I heard you use that line with so many girls I thought you were using it in that context again." When her companion frowned, Isabelle laughed and punched him playfully on the shoulder. "Kidding."

"What are you doing here?"

Isabelle's face darkened.

"You know you're not supposed to be here. Especially not here at Hogwarts."

"I'm _not_? If it wasn't apparent enough with my being homeschooled all those years, then I don't know."

"I'm serious, Isabelle."

Isabelle frowned. "There were complications, alright? Mom and Dad had to send me here 'for my own safety'." She emphasized the quotation marks with her hands.

The boy shrugged. "Whatever. You know what you must do."

"You mean what I must not do."

He gave her a look and walked away. Isabelle took the opposite direction. "Seriously." She scoffed, running her hands through her hair anxiously.

When she realized what she was doing, she stopped and stared at her hands in horror. "It takes you practically _all morning_ to get your hair ready. Stop messing it up!" she reprimanded herself. Noticing some other early birds from Hufflepuff staring at her from some distance, Isabelle slowly put her hands to her sides and stalked off.

* * *

><p>"Parvati told me that the new professor in DADA is nice. She said the first lesson was really fun, though maybe a bit scary." Padma Patil told the other third year Ravenclaws over breakfast.<p>

"Really? What was it about?" Terry Boot asked excitedly.

"The Riddikulus Charm."

Isabelle looked up from her book in interest. "Parvati is Padma's twin who's in Gryffindor." Madge whispered helpfully from across the table. Cyrene was trying not to stare at Oliver Wood from her seat but obviously, she's chosen the spot with the best possible vantage point to look at the Gryffindor.

As the other Ravenclaws started wondering how long Professor Lupin could last as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Isabelle called Padma's name. "The Riddikulus Charm's the one used against boggarts, right?" she asked.

Padma nodded. "The boggart supposedly takes form of your greatest fear. Nobody knows what its true form really is, though."

Michael Corner spoke up from his seat. "I heard Neville Longbottom's was Professor Snape. And when he cast the charm, Snape was wearing Neville's grandmother's clothes!" The table erupted into silent laughter, since Professor Snape seemed to look more sullen than ever and was glaring a lot more at all the House tables at that moment.

Isabelle's chuckle was cut short when Padma began to ask people what they think their boggarts would take the form of. She thought really hard and figured that the boggart would have enough trouble with her alone. She realized she had at least three things she would really cry of fear with.

"Isabelle?" someone called her name. It was Anthony Goldstein. "What do you suppose your boggart would be?" he asked, all eyes around the table on Isabelle by this time.

"I don't suppose it could take the form of really great heights, would it?" Isabelle asked, feeling her heartbeat race at the mere thought of those three things. "Probably a big ol' toad." She managed to chuckle nervously. "Yeah, maybe a frog or toad."

"You're really afraid of toads?" someone asked.

"Yes." Isabelle shivered involuntarily.

"You do realize that a lot of students here have toads, don't you?"

"I do. I'll try not to whack or kick them hard when I see them, I promise." Isabelle offered, cringing.

The table laughed again in amusement. "We'll try not to let them get to you then." Roger called out from the far end of the table. Only loud enough for the whole Ravenclaw table to hear.

"That would be highly appreciated, mates." Isabelle grinned in relief. But she broke out into cold sweat when an idea crossed her mind. What if the boggart took the form of the third possibility? Shaking the nervous feeling off, she turned to Cyrene. "What class do we have next?"

Swallowing the food she was chewing on, Cyrene looked at her and said, "DADA."

"Oh."


	4. Chapter 4: Reputation, Oh Reputation

**Author's Note: **This isn't exactly my most renowned fic of all time, so you may wonder why I keep on updating it more often than my current top fic. The answer to that is… I love Izzy, okay? I don't want to give up on her. Just because she's an OC doesn't mean she doesn't deserve some lovin'. Haha. So to those who already love her and spare time to read about her, THANK YOU. You don't know how much it means to me to see your reviews, story alerts and story favorites. You get me to keep writing, y'all.

**Disclaimer: **Queen Rowling owns all except the OC's and plot.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Reputation, Oh Reputation<strong>

Isabelle watched warily as the members of the class faced the boggart. She wondered how easily each of them exposed their greatest fears to the others in the room. As the boggart took the form of a werewolf, Isabelle caught a look of muted apprehension on Professor Lupin's face as he took a small, involuntary step back. By the time the werewolf had turned into an absurdly glittery one wearing a pink tutu, it was Isabelle's turn. She tentatively stepped forward and raised her wand in preparation. The boggart started to take the form of a gigantic toad but in mid-shift, it began to morph into something else. Isabelle stared in shock at the exact replica of her early-morning reflection. "Oh no." she muttered as the whispers around the room started.

"_Is that… Isabelle?" _

"_I can't see. The hair is too… LOUD." _

"_It's called frizz, smarty-arse." _

"_That's a whole lot of frizz then." _

"_It _is_ Isabelle. Once you get past the hair." _

"_She's afraid of herself with frizzy hair?"_

"Why? Aren't you? It looks like it will swallow us whole. All of us."

"_You exaggerate." _

"_Her hair's flawless, why should she be bothered by that, anyway?" _

Professor Lupin stepped towards the seemingly frozen Isabelle. "Miss Van Doren?" he called her.

Isabelle shook her head. _ "Riddikulus." _She waved her wand and the image of her with the ultimate frizz now had owl droppings on its hair.

Silence.

Isabelle turned to the class. "What? It actually happened once. I wondered what could possibly make it look even more terrible and Titania…" She trailed off, running her hand nervously through her hair and sighed as she walked over to the end of the line. Lupin cleared his throat and pushed Cyrene gently forward. Cyrene was looking extremely baffled at what just happened.

* * *

><p>"Maybe we should leave her alone for awhile." Antoinette whispered to Cyrene as they watched Isabelle brooding. She poked leaf after leaf into the mouth of the flobberworm Hagrid had tasked her to feed. She sighed, got another lettuce and fed it to the flobberworm. She's been at it since the Ravenclaws got to Care for Magical Creatures and it's been fifteen minutes since it ended. Her mood, however, had lasted since they left Defense Against the Dark Arts, to Herbology, lunch, and until now.<p>

Cyrene nodded. "Yes, but aren't you worried about the flobberworm?"

Antoinette raised her brow. "Why, should I be?" she asked.

"I reckon at some point they die of over-feeding."

The Hufflepuff shook her head. "That'll happen, eventually, with all the third years in each house feeding them. Let Isabelle end its misery early."

"The point is it won't be miserable."

"And why is that?"

"Because flobberworms have absolutely no sense of how much they're supposed to pig… or rather, worm out before it kills them." Cyrene muttered, remembering it from the book she read quite some time ago.

"You Ravenclaws know too much strange things."

"Maybe we do. But that's not really the point. It's Isabelle's misery we have to worry about."

Antoinette snuck a look at Isabelle again. "If that thing bursts, it will cover her with goo. Merlin, we have to stop her."

Both girls stopped when Isabelle turned her head to stare blankly at them. "EEK!" they yelped, grabbing onto each other at the look on Isabelle's face.

"Wanna wager?" Antoinette asked, as she and Cyrene inched farther from the gloomy Ravenclaw.

"Wager on what?" Cyrene replied as Isabelle started to stroke the flobberworm in a shiver-inducing manner. She also appeared to be talking to it. "Merlin, she's lost her marbles."

"That a Dementor would start keeping Isabelle company anytime soon."

"Dementors feed off happiness, Anne. Isabelle isn't exactly a bowl of rainbows and unicorns right now."

"Exactly, she's as dark as them; they'll probably think she's one of them."

"Very funny." Cyrene muttered as they walked away to let Isabelle be alone in the meantime.

"Isn't it wrong to leave her alone with all those Dementors cavorting up in the air?"

Cyrene sighed. "Let's just stay a safe distance from her."

* * *

><p>"Well well well."<p>

Isabelle cocked her head to face the person approaching. "Go away. I'm talking to Richard."

The boy frowned, obviously lost. "Who in Hogwarts' sickeningly long history is Richard?"

"The flobberworm." Isabelle answered, turning back to the now conspicuously fat creature in front of her.

"Really, Isabelle. And miss this chance to gloat?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You've only been here for less than two days and you've managed to ruin your image, dear Isabelle. Frizzy Izzy in DADA class. Frizzy Izzy has owl droppings in her hair."

"You heard that all the way from Slytherin? Good job, Z!" Isabelle replied sarcastically, standing up with 'Richard' looking dangerously close to bursting in her right hand.

The boy frowned. "Great job staying low profile. You know I simply dislike being associated with you."

"In case you've forgotten, you were the one who approached me both times, Z."

"Right, well, I was here to revel at your demise."

"And say that you're embarrassed to be related to me. How sweet. If you don't want people to know that we're related, stop approaching me. Easy solution, don't you think?" Isabelle cracked a smile, transferring the flobberworm into the other hand and patting the Slytherin's face with the hand it had just vacated. Thick blobs of slimy mucus stuck to his face and he scowled, taking a step back.

"Hey!" he snarled, raising his wand to hex Isabelle.

She merely laughed at him, ruffled his hair with the same hand, said, "Thanks for making me feel better, Z. And remember, you still go by another name, so they wouldn't start asking you if you've got some droppings in those tresses of yours as well." and ran off in the direction of Hagrid's hut, presumably to return 'Richard' to the half-giant.

The boy turned to walk back to the castle, muttering half incoherent curses under his breath. _"Told her countless times I hate it when she calls me that."_

* * *

><p>Marcus Flint grimaced at the sight of the Slytherin trudging towards the common room. "What happened to you?" he asked.<p>

The newcomer grunted an unintelligible reply and rushed towards the boys' dormitories.

Pansy Parkinson caught sight of him as well and scrunched up her nose. "What in the bloody hell?" she exclaimed, moving away from him.

Theodore Nott appeared at the common room from the direction of the dormitories and asked, "What was that about?" motioning to the bathroom door slamming in one of the rooms.

"Does somebody have indigestion?" Vincent Crabbe asked, hearing it as well.

Millicent Bulstrode who was sitting in front of the fireplace while this whole thing was happening, shook her head and spoke up. "… just turned up with a glob of slime all over his face and hair."

With that proclamation, a first year Slytherin girl who also witnessed the commotion retched and ran for one of the bathrooms in the girls' rooms as well.

"Great. Who's in the mood for dinner?"

* * *

><p>"Was that…" Cyrene started.<p>

"…Slytherin? Yes." Antoinette confirmed, looking extremely puzzled.

The two girls' eyes followed the figure that approached Isabelle a few moments earlier until it reached the castle.

"It's rude to stare, you know. What are you looking at?" A voice came from behind them. Cyrene and Antoinette jumped in surprise and turned to see Isabelle standing behind them, her hands on her hips.

"How did you- where did you?" her fellow Ravenclaw stuttered.

Isabelle shrugged. "You're a few meters from Hagrid's hut. I assumed you'd be a safe distance from where I was. He did say we shouldn't be out here with the nasties around."

"The only reason he allowed you to feed that flobberworm a little longer was because you were giving out an aura of Dementors." Cyrene supplied, cringing at the sight of Isabelle's slimy hand.

"Hm." Isabelle suddenly stuck out her arm to the direction of Antoinette and Cyrene. They gave small shrieks and backed off. "Let's go. We can't miss dinner. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout might notice." She said, menacingly reaching out to the two.

* * *

><p>"Is he…" Astoria Greengrass raised a brow.<p>

"Sending death glares to the Ravenclaw table? Yes." Her sister Daphne affirmed, sipping her pumpkin juice and after every few seconds inconspicuously stealing a look at Blaise who was busy downing all the food on his plate while talking to Pansy.

"You don't suppose someone from the Ravens was responsible for what happened to him awhile ago, do you?" Theodore Nott asked, observing the glaring Slytherin as well.

"Merlin, just tell us who it was and we'll take care of it. You're giving us indigestion with that look, mate." Flint finally said, nudging the boy.

"He made me lose my appetite when he appeared at the common room looking like a giant slime ball." Millicent muttered.

"You needed it." Goyle grunted.

The whole Slytherin table paused and looked at Gregory Goyle.

"He actually made sense." Draco smirked. "How about that. Congratulations, Goyle."

Crabbe looked slightly uncomfortable. Probably because Goyle made some kind of "progress". Oh no, wait, it was because the treacle tarts have run out.

Millicent huffed.

* * *

><p>Isabelle sat sullenly at the Ravenclaw table, glad that at least Cyrene and Madge decided to stick with her despite the incident earlier in the day. The rest of the third years had smiled at her when they arrived at the common room to get ready for dinner but Isabelle wasn't convinced. "You're overreacting, Isabelle." Cyrene had announced.<p>

"Cyrene's right, you know. We Ravens don't exactly have much care about reputation. I mean, look at us. Our House's probably only reputation is the nerdy house of Hogwarts. Not that we care, or anything, we love studying and all that. So, that bruise in your reputation most likely doesn't matter."

Isabelle sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right. But I'm more worried about the standing out part, not exactly the ruined rep."

"Psh." Cyrene snorted. "We all got our issues. By tomorrow people will have forgotten yours."

A few people down the table, whispers erupted.

"See?" Cyrene pointed out.

Madge craned her neck to hear what the others were talking about. "Donald McDonald just had an accident caused by Peeves by the staircases awhile ago." She relayed.

Isabelle crinkled her nose. "Wasn't that what Trelawney predicted?"

Anthony Goldstein heard Isabelle's statement and nodded. "Yeah, I do believe that's what she told him. But, she can't be right, right?"

As the rest of the Ravenclaws got into a heated debate as to what the chances are that Professor Trelawney is right, Isabelle caught the glare being sent to her from the Slytherin table. She gave a smile and a little wave on the direction of the Housa table of green and silver while Cyrene shot a meaningful look in the direction of the one with yellow and black.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So? What do you guys think? :D_ I know probably the only people who read this are The Stenchers, xD _


	5. Chapter 5: A Growing Suspicion

**Author's Note: **Hello! Back again for another chapter. And just when school's started again. I know, I should have updated earlier. Sorry about that! :( Anyways, here's the next chapter for Izzy's story. I hope you like it, since a huuuge revelation's coming right up. :D

Thank you to the readers and reviewers of my colleb fic with _**Salver**_ and _**fancyacupoftea**_, **Sitting In A Tree**! You guys are awesome. Here's a slippery hug from Richard for your love. We've been talking about the next chapters, so watch out for that. In a month or so. Haha!

And to those folks asking if this story is a tie-in to Vienne's, why yes, we're planning it to be. :) Although there aren't concrete ideas yet on how exactly we are to connect them and all speculated ideas so far are downright cray-cray, it is something to look forward to.

To the readers and reviewers of my other published stories, thank you so much! Your reviews mean a lot to me. Reviews are my crack. LOL. Here's another slippery hug from Richard!

Moving on...

**Disclaimer: **You really think this is mine? Aw, stop it you! :" Duh. Queen Rowling owns all except the OC's and plot.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: A Growing Suspicion<strong>

When Cyrene and Madge woke up the following morning, their roomie was nowhere to be found.

"Merlin, its _Saturday_." Madge whined, rolling over her bed to sleep again.

"Maybe she's off to see that Slytherin of hers again." Cyrene muttered.

"What was that?" The former suddenly sat upward, glaring at Cyrene who shot her a confused look.

"What?"

Madge rolled her eyes. "What was that about a Slytherin?" She motioned with her hands, as if Cyrene had suddenly ceased to be able to understand words.

Cyrene shrugged. "Well, Anne and I have noticed her... erm, _involvement _with a certain Slytherin..." A pillow flew by Cyrene's head and she ducked to avoid it. "Hey!"

Madge had her hands on her hips. "Who?"

"We can't be sure but..."

"Well?"

* * *

><p>As her roommates talked about her, Isabelle was walking alone in the halls of Hogwarts looking confused and lost. She caught her hand flying to her hair and quickly brought it down again. She <em>knew <em>she was standing in front of the Charms classroom, but that wasn't much help because she didn't know how to reach her destination coming from anywhere. It's not like she was very familiar with the place. Also, earlier, she barely got off a staircase before it shifted to move. What did Madge love about those things?

She muttered in annoyance at herself under her breath until she saw another figure walking towards her.

"Excuse me… can you tell me where the library is? I'm kind of, believe it or not, lost."

The girl looked slightly taken aback. A closer look at her robes told Isabelle that she was from Gryffindor.

"Huh?"

"The library." Isabelle smiled and evened her breathing, trying not to scare her salvation away when her hair bursts into a frizz with her frustration.

Luckily, the Gryffindor didn't seem to be running away. Yet. "Oh! The library. Right. Well, we're on the third floor so…"

Isabelle tried not to look alarmed when the girl began to whisper to herself as if trying to remember where exactly the library was. She mentally slapped herself about not asking her housemates instead.

The Gryffindor was staring at her.

"What was that?"

The Gryffindor smiled. "I said it's on the floor above this one. You just got to go up those stairs," she pointed to the staircases she was heading to.

Isabelle nodded, "Thank you… huh, I didn't happen to catch your name?"

"It's Peggy. Peggy Periwinkle."

"Oh, okay, thank you Peggy." Isabelle smiled and waved as she headed over to the stairs. "I'm Isabelle Van Doren."

Peggy Periwinkle was left there for a few moments puzzling over why a Ravenclaw would ask for directions to the library when the name clicked. "Oh, of course. The transferee."

"The transferee?" a new voice asked, startling Peggy and she jumped, eyes widening when she realized who it was. "Which transferee was it?" the Slytherin male asked.

Peggy stood there, silent, as she didn't trust the Slytherin lot. But she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, so she stood her ground and did not flee.

"Oh c'mon. Don't tell me I'd have to duel it out of you, Gryffindork."

"Why do you want to know anyway?" Another voice speaks up, as Isabelle walks down the staircase again upon hearing the commotion the portraits started as the Slytherin and Gryffindor glared at each other.

"Oh. _That _transferee." The Slytherin snickered, moving past the insulted-looking Peggy who rushed to walk past him again and passed Isabelle by the stairs, giving here a concerned look. Isabelle gave her a nod to say that she can manage the situation and Peggy acknowledged it by going up to the stairs and leaving her to deal with the Slytherin alone.

"Cavorting with Ravenclaws, that I understand. But then there's a Hufflepuff and just now, a Gryffindor. Nice posse you got there." He drawled.

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "With you stalking me _all _the time they'd think you were the Slytherin in the said bunch."

A few portraits nodded in assent. One of them even rushed to tell her friend from another portrait. And the news spreads like wildfire. Isabelle saw this and motioned to the portraits. "Walls have ears," she said. "You better get away from me if you hate to be associated with the Van Doren girl."

"Nah, I think I'm alright."

A brow rose. "Really now?"

"They're going to tell everyone we're lovers." He smirked.

"Oh bloody hell."

* * *

><p>"And we saw them talking by Hagrid's and they keep on sending looks across the tables during meal times." Cyrene finished, shrugging.<p>

Madge was frowning. "But, that doesn't make any sense. Isabelle had just transferred here to Hogwarts. She's been home-schooled all her life. How would she know him?"

"I don't know, but they seem to have known each other for some time now. Besides, she was home-schooled, not a hermit, so they may have come across each other at some point. Especially that Isabelle comes from the Van Dorens. I hear purebloods have this network with each other. Social beings."

Madge just tilted her head and sighed. "I'm going to slide down the banisters. You're welcome to join me if you want."

Cyrene shot Madge an alarmed look. "No thanks. I think I'll pass… again."

* * *

><p>Madge was feeling the rush as the wind whistled by her hair. She grinned. Just in time for the staircase to finish shifting. Ignoring the strange looks she was getting from the lower years, Madge calmly looked for the next prospective banister to slide down on.<p>

Meanwhile, Antoinette exited the Hufflepuff Common Room and started running up the stairs. She had to head to the library to finish a three feet essay Professor McGonagall assigned them to do on Switching. Typically, it wasn't a habit of hers, but hanging out with the Ravens had consequences regarding schoolwork and studying. Not that she was complaining, apparently it gave her a lot of free time to do other things when she finishes all school-related tasks first.

"Hullo, Anne." She heard a voice pipe up. She raised her head and saw Isabelle walking down the stairs, probably headed off to check on that flobberworm of hers.

"Wotcher, Belle."

As they exchanged pleasantries, both girls smiled and moved on to their respective destinations. Along the way, Antoinette almost bumped into someone. But before she could look up to see who it was, the person rounded the corner and left her line of sight. She frowned.

A _whoosh _distracted Antoinette from her thoughts as she reached the landing of the third floor. "Hi, you're Antoinette, right?" greeted a new voice.

Antoinette recognized the girl to be Madge Miller, one of the Ravenclaws her friends from blue and bronze hung out with. She nodded. "Oh, hello, Madge."

"Where you off to?" Madge asked, wiping off a bit of sweat from her forehead.

"To the library to finish that essay Professor McGonagall gave."

"Oh, that. Mind if I join you?"

Antoinette shook her head. "Not at all."

Madge grinned. "Great. Can you just wait for me a bit? I have to grab my things from the common room."

"Sure."

As Madge rushed off, Antoinette walked over to the window to look at other students bustling about outside the castle. She saw the unmistakable auburn of Isabelle's hair heading over to Hagrid's cottage, making her assumption about her friend going off to see 'Richard' seem more likely. As no other students seemed to bother visiting Hagrid, Antoinette squinted and frowned at another figure walking a short distance behind Isabelle, appearing to be following her.

The two figures stopped a good distance from the castle and from the hut and sat down on the grass.

Antoinette's breath fogged up the window so she started wiping it with her sleeve. "What are they doing?" she hissed, willing the glass to disappear so she could poke her head out and maybe acquire super sight and hearing to get answers to so many questions swimming through her mind.

"I'm seriously starting to rethink my friendship with Isabelle with her hanging out with a Slytherin just like that. What dark magic is this." She muttered to herself. "And it's just been how many days?"

* * *

><p>"We've got to do something about this." Cyrene announced, causing Madge and Antoinette to look up from their furious scribbling on their parchments. She had tagged along with Madge when she went back to the dorms to get her things. They had found Antoinette with her face pressed hard against the window overlooking Hagrid's hut.<p>

"We _are_ doing something. We're not in the library for nothing." Madge replied, motioning to the books scattered around their table.

Cyrene shook her head. "No, I meant about Isabelle and her mysterious Slytherin."

Antoinette put down her quill. "What do you plan to do?"

"Ask her?"

"Ask who what?" All three girls jumped and turned their heads simultaneously to the source of the voice. Isabelle was standing by a bookcase, parchment and quill in one hand, a couple more books in the other. "Hi guys. I figured you'd be here." She grinned and sat down on a chair beside Antoinette.

The three girls shared looks as if silently saying _'You ask her.' _But no one moved. Finally Cyrene cleared her throat. "We just noticed you hanging out with somebody… a guy… and we were wondering…"

"What we are to each other?" Isabelle asked, quill scratching on her parchment.

The three girls nodded. Isabelle looked up at them and sighed. "I know I should have been more discreet." She sighed again almost inaudibly.

The three shared alarmed looks. Maybe Isabelle was really seeing that boy. And he's a _SLYTHERIN! _

"And no one was supposed to know about it." Isabelle smacked her palm to her face.

"Uh oh." Antoinette squeaked.

"I told him to stay away from me." Isabelle continued her monologue.

Cyrene started to twitch. An Eagle and a Snake! Oh Merlin's soggy boots.

The said Eagle continued rattling on. "Come to think of it, I never saw the point why we had to keep it a secret."

"Because you're in different houses and inter-house romances are not exactly tolerated? Especially with Slytherins! And you're in third year!" Madge offered in a loud, panicked whisper.

Isabelle stopped babbling. "What?" she frowned. "Oh no. I think you girls got it wrong."

Her companions rolled their eyes as if to say _"How could we be wrong? All the signs point to a not so secret romance." _

"Um, I guess I owe you all an explanation or at least a semi-explanation since you're my only friends in here."

Cyrene groaned. "Yes, please. This is such a scandal."

Isabelle started to giggle. "You don't understand. I'm sorry to drop this on you in a moment like this but… that guy from Slytherin who's constantly tailing me… well… he's my brother."

A stunned silence.

Madge was the first to recover. "What?"

A figure emerged from the bookcases. "You never really knew how to keep secrets, huh Isabelle? Great, now I have to clean up your mess again."

Antoinette stared in a shocked daze at the Slytherin. "What?"

Cyrene hissed. _"WHAT?" _

Said siblings shrugged at each other. "What."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>What. Ok. Haha, kidding. AN IDENTITY IS REVEALED! Well, partly. You still don't know who he is, don't you? *cackles* and I'm gonna keep that a secret a bit longer. Ahahaha!

Oh yeah, sorry if this chapter was short. I'm gonna give you a longer one for the next, I promise. *sticky sweet smile*

But I still won't reveal who. :P


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